


Newton's First Law of Motion

by KarmaWaykes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Destiel - Freeform, F/F, F/M, High School, Hospital, M/M, MCR, Sad, WIP, angsty, ending still in progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 21:11:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3183317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarmaWaykes/pseuds/KarmaWaykes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester has it all, a loving family, a "great" girlfriend, average (good enough) grades, colleges lined up for him, amazing friends.  He is, truly, an object in motion.  But it gets blown to peices, this dream world of his, when his car crashes into a tree.  During his long stay at the hospital Dean learns more about himself and discovers himself confined within white walls and the smell of chemicals.</p>
<p>After all, every force in motion will always meet an unmovable outside force.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

An object in motion stays in motion until acted upon by an outside force.

In this case Dean Winchester is a force in motion that nothing can stop. 

He's seventeen, an age at which most teens think that they are totally and utterly invincible. Dean is a senior in high school, Cage Middlton High School. He's handsome, he knows it, he flaunts it, he makes very good use of it. He's loud, some may say obnoxious, but only behind his back. 

Dean is part of a loving family, his life is perfect. His mother was gorgeous and amazing, smart, and trusting. His father, strict, but loving, understanding, and honest. His little brother was smart, granted taller than Dean which amde him slightly annoyed, but brilliant none the less. 

Dean is the type of person everyone wants to be on a first name basis with. Dean is popular, he's friendly, he's perfection to the highschool standard. Dean is the school's football captain. He's not exactly a genius, not like his little brother, but he can get by with B's and A-'s. Besides, who needs brains when you have football? He likes people, he likes his school, but he hates people who think they are above others because they are rich or some bullshit. And because Cage Middlton is full of such students, he hates most of the school, not to their faces of course! 

He has a reputation to protect.

He has top league colleges looking at him to play football for them. He has a girlfriend that was the sweetest thing since licorice and candy corn. His best friend is awesome, she is shorter, he like that about her, smart, sassy, and yeah, a little nerdy, but who cares?

Everyone loves Dean. 

Dean Winchester is totally, utterly, and unarguably an object in motion.

__________________________________________________________________

An object in motion stays in motion until acted upon by an outside force.

In this case Dean Winchester, who, as has already been established, is an object in a continuously unstoppable motion. Dean lives in New York, the big city. His routine is simple and continuous.

He wakes up at 6:30 in the morning, it takes him about fifteen minutes to get ready, he's kissing his mom's cheek and yelling "goodbye" by 7:00. As he jumps into Charlie's old van, which he is still slightly scared to get into, he nods at her and she punches his arm playfully with a smile on her face. Sam usually catches a ride with Adam, his friend from the middle school that starts thirty minutes after the high school. 

Charlie and Dean generally get to school by 7:10, give or take traffic, porcupines, and either one of them being slightly off time. By 7:15 they have met up with their group of friends, Jo, a cheeky blonde girl who loves to laugh, Balthazar, a foreign exchange student from the UK, Ash, a questionable but friendly dude, and Anna, a sweet red head that Charlie was kinda really crushing on. Dean's girlfriend gets to them by 7:18 at least, her name is Meg, Dean thinks she's adorable, and really she is. She's really nice...to Dean. By 7:25 Dean kisses Meg goodbye, waves and departs with Charlie to their homeroom. 

Five minute detour to talk to his football coach. 7:30. Another five minute detour for a second period pass to the "library" (football field). 7:35. Yet another detour to greet teachers, students, and the office staff that smile graciously at him as the principal pats him on the back for no apparent reason. They make it to homeroom usually by 7:50. Then they have a ten minute leeway till classes actually start. 8:00.

The rest is a normal thing, classes through till 10:30, then lunch for 40 minutes, and then two more classes before he returns to Charlie truck and to his home where he generally sleeps.

Yes sir, Dean Winchester is without any doubt an object in an unstoppable motion.

That is...he was an unstoppable object. But as does with every object that is in motion, at some point, at any point at all, an outside force comes along.


	2. Forgotten Angels and Pianos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't edited, so apologies in advanced, I will edit as soon as I can :)
> 
> Song: Na Na Na by My Chemical Romance

When Dean gets to school on the fifteenth of December he waves at Charlie, explaining to her that he needs to meet with someone before he gets to class, and would therefore have to skip the usual morning meet with their friends. He runs through the school, avoiding teachers where he could and sending tight smiles to those he couldn't. He gets to the music room and has to wait, leaning against the lockers across from the shut door as some giggling freshman shuffled past. As soon as their gone he opens the door and gets into the room as quickly as possible.

It isn't that he's ashamed of his love for music, he loves Metallica and several other bands, but nobody actaully knows about his love for making music. He sees Garth sitting at the far end of the room, tapping a pencil on the wood surface of the grand piano that rests there, sturdy and familiar. Garth is smart, to say the least. He has to be as smart as Sammy, he skipped two grades and still takes practically all AP classes. He's already been accepted into Harvard and Stanford to study basically anything he wants with full rides. One other thing about Garth is that he loves instruments, not just listening to them or playing them, but making them. 

Garth barely looks up when he hears Dean shut the heavy wooden door behind him and lock it. He leans against the piano, elbows on its mahogany top as Dean goes and opens the closet that is home to his baby, a guitar that Garth himself had made for Dean for his birthday. The instrument itself is a thing of beauty and it sounds heavenly. He slides it out of its case carefully, strumming a few chords to make sure it was still in tune.

"Has - "

"No Dean, nobody's touched it." Garth pratically spent his life in the music room, his father almost completely absent from his life and his mother in the hospital not so much dying because of her insistent drug habits. The music teacher, Mr. Kripke, didn't seem to very much mind since the music room was basically not in use anymore but for the few musically inclined, such as Garth and Dean. Though the only ones who really knew about this was Mr. Kripke, Garth, Dean himself, Charlie, Sam, and the rest of Dean's family.

They had maybe thirty minutes before classes started to Garth passed Dean a piece of paper, written at the top the words Forgotten Angels had been written over and over again until they were bold and leaving indents in the paper underneath it. Garth began to explain as he set up the pano and all his accessories.

"I was working on this for the past two weeks basically. I have the piano part down, and the lyrics, but I was hoping you could listen and create an acoustic part of it." They'd done this before, sometimes it was Dean that brought in lyrics to be put to music, and sometimes it would be Garth. Dean noded and hopped onto the stool that was standing next to the piano, he put the papers on top of the piano and held his guitar in his lap. The piano intro was hypnotic and slow, but had a certain sound of tragedy to it. Garth had a voice, a good one, not one that would win X-Factor or anything, but a haunting voice that seemed too low to be coming from him. There were seven measures of just music before he sang, the seven measures were slow and strange in a good way, loud and slow.

When he began to sing, he quieted his playing and his voice came in a harsh whisper.

"My monsters have caught up,  
My wings have flown without me,   
My mirror wants a closeup,  
That I can't bear to see

Forgotten angels that can't find a way,  
Forgotten angels that can't bear to fly,  
Forgotten angels that won't think to stay,  
Forgotten angels that have forgotten to say goodbye

I expected my God to save me,  
But I have gone unseen,  
I never thought I would be,  
Part of something no one will win

Forgotten angels that can't find a way,  
Forgotten angels that can't bear to fly,  
Forgotten angels that won't think to stay,  
Forgotten angels that have forgotten to say goodbye

This is a war of power,  
And in the midst of blood and loss,  
Those who stay willcower,  
There is no bridge to cross

Forgotten angels that can't find a way,  
Forgotten angels that can't bear to fly,  
Forgotten angels that won't think to stay,  
Forgotten angels that have forgotten to say goodbye

This is a war of power,  
Just like every other war is,  
Always brother fighting brother,  
The world will burn because of this

I expected my God to save me,  
But I have gone unseen,  
I never thought I would be,  
Part of something no one will win

Forgotten angels that can't find a way,  
Forgotten angels that can't bear to fly,  
Forgotten angels that won't think to stay,  
Forgotten angels that have forgotten to say goodbye"

 

Dean is tapping out a beat on the back of the piano with the pads of his fingers, his mind conjuring chords and notes as the music envelopes him. When Garth stops singing, the piano music goes for five more notes before it's over. For a moment a silence blankets the room as Garth sits and Dean thinks. Garth never speaks right after he finishes singing, it's like an unwritten law between the two of them to be silent for a for seconds before they converse once again. Sorta like having a moment of silence because what was beautiful had come to an end. Then Dean opens his eyes and smiles, Garth looks at him and smiles back,

"I got it." He begins writing down the chords he had thought up, and then Garth says,

"Are we gonna have drums too? Or just piano and guitar?" Dean looks up, without stopping his writing,

"Charlie can play a little." He looks back down to the paper as he finishes a line of music, "I could ask her." Garth nods and closes the cover over the keys of the piano. 

"Well, I gotta get to Calculus, you know how Mrs. Janlet can get when you're late." Dean does, he had her for Algebra two years ago, he disliked every moment of it. Dean smiles and nods,

"Yeah man, I know, have fun being a nerd." He stands and puts the guitar back into it's case, puts the case into the closet, and then Garth locks the closet behind Dean. As they're leaving Dean punches Garth playfully on the arm. 

"Friday, same time?" Garth nods,

"Yeah man, see you then." They go separate ways then, Garth to the left, Dean to the right to homeroom where Charlie is waiting for him.

She smiles and he sits. He knows that she knows where he had been, there is no keeping secrets from Charlie. And then the day is just like every other week day. Nothing exciting, nothing out of the ordinary. With the exception of the robotics team dropping an electronuc helicopter off of the roof and successfully managed to knock off Mr. Alistair's toupee.

Then Dean goes home, because that's what he does. He finishes his homework, and he eats, and then he goes to sleep because tomorrow is Thursday and he has school.

He dreams of apples and books and headaches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is the first official chapter of this fic, don't worry Cas will be coming into the fic soon. The lyrics to the song Forgotten Angels are mine, I wrote it, and, of course, disclaimer for everything else.


	3. Author's Note

My sincereous apologies. I did not mean to put off writing for this long and I am incredibly sorry. This is not an update, however in a couple hours (hopefully) I'll post a few new chapters. Again thank you so much to those of you who have read this so far and I am very sorry!!!!

\- Yana


	4. Fallen Angels With Ripped Out WIngs

Song: Bad Blood by Taylor Swift, or I'm So Sorry by Imagine Dragons

    On Friday of the next week Dean meets Garth in the music room.  Or more to the actual point, he almost meets Garth in the music room.  He doesn’t actually go into the music room per say, mostly because Garth is not the only person occupying the music room.  The second person isn’t a safe person like Charlie, or the music teacher.  No.  It’s someone that Dean never thought he’d see doing what she was doing.  But then...maybe he should have expected it.  She did have that kind of reputation.  

    For some reason when Dean started dating Meg he always thought that he was special to her.  That he was the one that she would finally change her ways for.  Whatever that reason was, well, Dean now deemed it a disappointment.  Just like Meg.  Because that’s why he isn’t that surprised when he sees Garth push her off of him and ask her what she’s doing.  A part of him is relieved that Garth isn’t a part of it.  At least not a consenting part, because he’s not sure he’d of been able to stomach the betrayal of one of his closest friends and that of his girlfriend.  

Dean tells himself that he should leave, he should walk down the hall, it didn’t matter anyway.  But he can’t tear himself away.  He has read about this, those silly books about romance and how they were just doing to make one another jealous.  This though, this was reality, and it was more funny than it was in the books.  He’s not exactly sure why it’s funny, but it is just the same, and he fights the urge to laugh.  Then he’s mad, and all his emotions are swirling around like a whirlwind, and his thoughts are in a language he doesn’t understand.  Then he’s sad, and he doesn’t want to cry so he bottles it up and adds it to the rage building within him.  He doesn’t want to do anything stupid, but at the same time he wants to start a war and throw a party at the bottom of the ocean so that all the dead bodies would be his company.  But Dean; Dean is an object in motion.  And Meg, through all her beauty, and her lies, and her goddamn hypocrisy.  Meg sure as hell was not going to be his outside force.

So Dean does what every object in motion always does.  He moves.  Walks into the music room, grabs his guitar from the closet and slams the door closed behind him. He doesn't care for whatever face Meg is pulling, because he knows that if he sees her face he'll fall in lies all over again.  Knows he can just call Garth later and tell him he knew that he wasn't a consenting party.  But for now he was going to get into Charlie's truck and drive away. Maybe drive to the highway and keep going till he hit the Pacific.

But he won't do that; for the most part because he's broke, and for the second part because he is an object in motion and Meg was just an object. Charlie had asked him to drive that morning because she had had a bad case of the “studying-all-night”; he had held on to the keys under the impression that he would return it during their first period together. But instead he clutched them in his fist, feeling the cold metal biting into his palm. And left the building; uncaring for whoever saw him leave the music room. The door that led to the parking lot was all he saw and he ignored the smiles of teachers and students alike. 

The truck, Charlie's truck, was an old pile of junk. So old in fact that they had stopped production because human kind had somehow managed to upgrade their technology since the stone age. It groaned in protest when Dean threw his bag in the passenger seat hard enough to slam against the door and nearly broke apart at the slamming of his door. The rough squeal of the tires on the tar was sharp and Dean nearly ran over three people on his way out of the parking lot before he hit the main road. 

He drove just under the speed limit through town but sped up when he reached the highway. If he was driving faster than what was safe he really didn't care too much. There were very few people on the road as most were already at work or at school. The trees decorating the edges of either side of the highway were haunting and large but they all began to blend together as Dean drove. 

He was probably overreacting. No, he knows he's overreacting. It is because he's driving as though hell were on his heels that Meg has won. His phone rings in his bag, he spares it a quick glare but ignores it until it stops. When it starts again he reaches over to smother it with his bag. Unfortunately, unlike with human beings when one attempts to suffocate an inanimate object the screams don't stop. The cellphone keeps ringing. Dean groans when the phone rings for the third time and grips it. Garth is calling him. He glances back at the road and sees nobody, so he dismisses the call and opts for a text instead. He holds his phone in one hand, typing out “Its ok, I no u dnt lik her...”

It could be this, the texting while driving, that ultimately leads to it but it could be soemthing else. Because only if Dean hadn't of gone to school today he wouldn't have caught Meg, but only if he hadn't of been dating Meg in the first place he wouldn't be in this situation, but only if, but only if, but only if.

But only if the truck had stopped sooner.


	5. The Tragedy of An Angel Whose Wings Were Torn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He meets Cas finally!

Song: Any Other World by Mika

The official report of the accident says that one Dean Winchester swerved in an attempt to avoid a truck after he had drifted into the wrong lane while texting. While swerving the truck hit his car on the driver's side making Winchester lose control of his vehicle and crashing head first into a tree. Winchester was critically injured and paramedics were called to the scene. Winchester's injuries were sustained for the most part by the dashboard and front seat crushing him and trapping him in the car, he suffered whiplash and several cuts that required stitches. There was a probability that he would be paralyzed waist down for the rest of his life, and only a 4.7% probability that he would be able to walk again and only with intensive physical therapy.

The news everyone would receive was that Dean Winchester had been in an accident and he was doing fine.

People came in and out of Dean's hospital room but he wouldn't know they'd been there for the only proof would be the wilting flowers, the get well cards, and the visitor's sign in sheet at the front desk. They moved him into a two person room when he stabilized. He remained in a coma for another two weeks after they moved him four days after the accident. His family took turns waiting in his room for him to wake up; they came everyday at 7:30 AM when visiting hours began, Sam the first day, John the second day, then Mary the third, and then the cycle began again until the short vacation Sam received for family emergency ended. They only left when the nurses kicked them out at 8 PM when visiting hours ended.

When Dean wakes up it's just about 3:45 on the 19th morning of his hospitalization. He wakes with the sudden realization that he's cold and hungry and he isn't in his room andwhat'sgoingonwhereishe. He's trying to yank at the IV needle stuck in his skin when a low voice sounds from the opposite corner of the room;  
“What are you doing?” Dean's head shoots up to look at the person. The boy, probably the same age as Dean but thinner and paler. He has messy black hair and piercing blue eyes that Dean can see shining from across the room. Dean's fumbling hands freeze,  
“Who are you?” He's voice is hoarse and cracks embarassingly.

“Castiel, you're my roommate.” Castiel? 

“Where am I?” Dean yells at him, Castiel shoots him a sharp look and beckons at him to quiet down.

“You're at the hospital and it's like four in the morning so quiet down.”

“What are you doing awake then?” Dean asks begrudgingly lowering his voice;

“You woke me up with all your thrashing about.” Dean's hand continues to fiddle with the IV needle.

“Oh, sorry about that. I'll just be going.” He says to the strange boy, standing up beside his IV.

“Really?” Castiel asks raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, why?”

“Well...promise not to freak out Dean.”  
“I'm sorta freaked that you know my name but other than that what would I be freaking out about?” Dean snorts,

“Look down.” Castiel says beckoning at Dean's legs. And Dean does look and they're on the bed, his feet are not on the floor where he had just put them. He moves them but nothing happens, the blankets don't move. He tries to pick his leg up but it doesn't move.

“What the fu-” 

“I beg of you not to make a scene.” Castiel mutters.

“What did they do to me? Why can't I feel my legs.” Castiel sighs and gets up gripping his IV and dragging it along with him as he walks up next to Deans bed and takes a laminated poster from the foot of Dean's bed (no pun intended). Castiel hands it to Dean who snatches it away and brings it close to his face.

“You were in a car accident that resulted in you wrapping your car around a tree. It is a, uh, a possibility that you are...paralyzed from waist down.” It takes a moment for Castiel's words to click into Dean's mind, he promptly drops the poster and looks at Castiel,

“Paralyzed!? Look man I don't know what kind of sick joke this is but...” Castie looks at Dean with calm eyes and Dean knows with a terrible understanding, Castiel doesn't tell jokes.

“I could go to the bathroom now, if you'd like.” He wants to give Dean time to himself and Dean appreciates the sentiment but if the guy leaves right now Dean might break down. And no Object in motion should ever break down. 

But how is an object in motion to stay in motion when the object in motion has no means to stay in motion?

Dean shakes his head and Castiel gives him a wry smile that's full of the type of sympathy that doesn't say “poor thing”, but rather “you'll make it”. Then Dean covers his eyes and if his back starts to shake and if he sniffles a bit, and if he reaches out his free hand, and if Castiel grips it in a comfort. Well if that happens, it happened.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my second Destiel fic, there is a playlist to each chapter (with exception of the prologue) and I will upload those at the beginning notes on every chapter. This work is so far a Work In Process and I update as often as possible but usually once a week. I hope you enjoy my story.


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